Tales of Utopia
by Zacharies Ringweaver
Summary: Chapter I of the Tales of Heavens trilogy As the great war rages on, one group of freinds must find the great seed and restore balance. Basically it's the adventures of Mithos, Kratos, Yuan, and Martel.
1. prolog

**:Prolog:**

_It was thousands of years ago, on a planet called Aselia, where a race called humans were just finally getting their footing right. A great comet came from the sky, a comet as large as Aselia, but so much more powerful._

_The comet brought down a strange and very different race than the humans, they became known as elves. And they brought with them vast and unimaginable wonders._

_When the elves descended from their comet down to the surface of Aselia, they met a human named Prometheus. Prometheus and the elves both used different languages, and it soon became apparent that it would be very difficult to communicate unless the elves were able to learn the language of Prometheus._

_Prometheus spoke through gestures, and showed them to his cottage. They met his wife, Rosetta, and together they tried to teach the elves human speech. After several months, the elves finally got the hang of the human language and were ready to interact with other humans, so Prometheus and Rosetta took them to a small town one day to buy supplies and groceries._

_When the elves came to the town, they were appalled at how primitive the conditions of the town were, likewise the humans gaped and stared at the strangeness of the newcomers. They were especially curious of the pointy ears they had, and their attire, which contrasted greatly from theirs._

_But the real controversy came when one of the elves pulled out a device from his home world, an inhaler, for he was plagued with a terrible disease. He put it too his mouth and pressed the button, puffs of yellow smoke spewed out from the back. The humans watched in wonder as the elf took his medication._

_Over time the elves showed the humans more and more of their wonders, each more amazing and awe inspiring than the next. And after each one the humans craved more and more, their hunger was insatiable. These wonders would be dubbed in the human language as "Magitechnology"._

_An interesting event also took place at the same time the humans discovered Magitechnology, the first son of Prometheus, named Adam, fell in love with one of the elves that came down from the comet, whose name was Lilith. Their love was unlike anything two races had seen, or wanted for that matter. Both Adam and Lilith, despite loving each other so much, were forbidden by their individual races to see each other. Never the less, the two found a way and eloped, against their parent's wishes. They had their first child, and stared a new race on the planet Aselia, a race that came to be known as half-elves._

_It was this that sparked the loathing and hatred between the two races. The elves stayed on the planet Aselia, studying the humans, learning their ways. Over time, they began to despise them. Their habits, the anger, the hatred, the greed, the elves saw these things as primitive and unworthy of being mixed in with their culture. So, one day, the elves returned to their comet and left Aselia forever._

_But not without a present…_

_It was a tree of everlasting mana; it brought prosperity and life to the world of Aselia. In time, this tree would be known in the human language as "The Great Kharlan Tree" and it would be the source of all agreement, strife, peace, war, solitude, and conflict between the humans, elves, and everyone in between._

_The humans, wanting to harness this source of power, developed Magitechnology of their own. And soon began to use the mana from the Kharlan tree to power this technology, they became completely dependent on the tree's mana for everyday needs. Tooth brushes, dishwashers, dryers, washing machines, the humans built a machine for everything._

_That's when their greed set in._

_They began developing weapons of war, bombs, robots, lasers, blasters, among other things used for destruction and death. They turned on each other, and began killing one another for the mana of the great tree. It was civil war, with all the mana in the world as the grand prize._

_Then, one day, all the Magitechnology in the world of Aselia, was gone._

_Well, not really gone. It stopped working, all the weapons of war, all the home appliances, ceased function. The mana that ran them had disappeared; the great tree was completely dry of mana. It withered at the touch of man's greed and died._

_But that didn't stop them from killing each other._

_The war continued, one side accusing the other of taking the seed of the great tree. The seed that, with it, could grow back into the great tree itself. If it were to germinate, the tree would be reborn, and the mana would be restored._

_In short, whoever possessed it would be the most powerful man alive._

_Both sides sent treasure hunters, soliders, mercenaries, anyone to find the great seed before the others did. But to no avail, it seemed the great seed would never be found. Slowly, it drifted into the stuff of fairy tales and mythology._

_But the war continued._

_It continued for so long that both sides forgot what they were fighting over, and they agreed that one of them should back down. But they didn't, man's pride got in the way. And the war raged on, and on, and on, seemingly without end._

_And far off somewhere, in a secret village of Elves who chose to stay behind on Aselia, a half-elf_ _boy and his sister grew in secret, waiting for their destiny to unravel…_


	2. Chapter 1

**:Chapter 1:**

A quarter moon hung over Heimdall; a crisp, cool night breeze blew itself against the wooden shutters of the houses. All was quiet and peaceful as the elves slept in their cottages. It was as if time had completely stopped.

A young woman's voice broke the dark tranquility.

"Mithos!" it called, "Mithos!"

There was no reply. 'Darn it! Where is that little brother of mine?' the young woman thought. She called his name again.

"…What the heck is going on Martel?" asked another voice.

Martel turned, an elf about her age stood on his doorstep, still in his pajamas stretching and yawing.

"Oh, hey Jent," she said to him, "I'm sorry if I interrupted your sleep."

"Oh, that's alright," said Jent, "I'm not sure the rest of Heimdall will want to lose anymore beauty sleep though."

Martel chuckled a little bit, "Yeah, I'll try to be quieter."

"You're brother get away from you again?" he asked.

Well…yeah," she answered uncertainly, "You seen him anywhere?"

"Yeah, I saw him sneak out," he said, "He went into Torrent forest I think…"

"He what!" Martel asked aghast, "What about the sentry?"

"Well…I guess he fell asleep."

"And you just let him go! There are monsters in there Jent!"

"Uhh…well…" Jent put his hand behind his head in a nervous gesture, "I guess I forgot about them…"

Martel gave him one last look of frustration before she headed towards the Torrent forest. Jent called back to her, "Wait! It's dangerous! Let me come with you!"

He ran back inside to get dressed, and by the time he came back out she was already deep in the forest.

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Torrent forest was alive with all kinds of insects and night creatures, but, surprisingly, no monsters. The most dangerous thing out there at that moment was the owl, watching hungrily for any mice fool enough to cross its path. Fireflies danced in mid air, a trail of mist hung close to the ground. The stage was set for an epic battle.

Mithos swung his stick in an arc, missing his opponent only by inches. He pressed his attack, and swung a wide vertical swing that slammed the tip of his weapon into the ground. He had missed yet again, but, undaunted, he charged into him and was knocked back on his butt by a powerful blow.

He got up and charged again, the owl that was waiting for some sort of mouse to come along now looked at the boy with interest. He watched as he swung wildly at seemingly air. And he was shouting, at what? Something invisible obviously, something only he could see.

"Ha!" the boy laughed, "is this all the power of humanity can muster against me?"

And the same boy answered back, "You will never win! I will defeat you," he yelled at himself as he pointed his sword at the invisible something defiantly.

"Ha ha ha!" laughed the boy again, in an attempt to make his voice deeper, " you cannot win, evil will always triumph! Give up!"

"Never!" he yelled defiantly to himself, he charged again. What was once curiosity, the owl now watched with confusion. The boy swung his weapon this way and that at nothing at all, and whenever he taunted himself he would answer defiantly. It was almost if he had an alter ego of some sort. After some ten minutes of watching, the owl finally flew off, coming to this conclusion: Bipedals are weird.

Mithos let out a final cry of rage at himself and thrusted his sword at thin air. He then responded to his own attack by taking the "Point" of the weapon and putting it to his heart. Then he cried in a pained voice, "Uhh…I have been slain! Curse you legendary hero! Uhh…what a cruel world!" and fell to the ground at his sister's feet.

As Martel looked down upon him, arms crossed about her chest, Mithos could feel the weight of her stare. I felt like a hundred some pounds suddenly fell onto his stomach; he sat up and gave a nervous smile at his sister.

"Uhh…Hi."

"…Hi? HI!" He flinched as his sister raised her voice, " do you know just how long I've been looking for you?"

As Mithos opened his mouth to speak she interrupted him, "No! I don't want to hear it Mithos! I just want you to get your butt out of this forest and back to bed!" She pointed to the path behind her. Mithos sighed and began to walk past her when she asked, "What were you thinking? Coming out into the middle of the night, on a school night no doubt, and venturing into this monster infested forest just to play swords?"

As they walked, Mithos tried to speak but, as usual, his sister wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise. "I mean, you're already great at magic Mithos! Why would you need a sword?"

"But think about it sis!" Mithos finally said, "magic users are always hiding behind the people with weapons so they can cast their spells, but if I learn how to use a sword _and _magic, I'll be invincible!"

Martel put a hand to her forehead and sighed, "I don't think it works like that Mithos…"

"Well of course it does! Why wouldn't it?" Mithos once again took out the stick, "I can be charging up a thunder blade spell, and while my opponent is busy defending himself against my swordplay, the spell will come down right on him!" Mithos did a few swings with his stick as he spoke and managed to almost hit his sister, who leaned back just enough to let the tip of the stick pass a hair away from her nose.

"Watch where you're swinging that thing will you!" She said, with great hand-eye coordination she caught the stick in mid swing and pulled it away from him.

"Hey! I was using that!" Mithos grabbed the other end and began pulling it back, but his sister had a strong grip. "Let go!"

"No!" said Martel, now grasping the stick with two hands, "Your going to hurt someone!"

"Give…it…back!" Finally succeeding in wrenching the stick from her grasp, Mithos fell back on his tush, grasping the stick victoriously.

Martel, outraged, picked up a stick and charged at him. "Why you!"

Mithos saw her coming and began to run down the path, his sister yelled after him. "Get back here!" she called, right behind him her stick raised menacingly. As he looked back, he tripped on a stone and fell on his stomach, when he looked up Martel was standing right over him. He stood and raised his stick, "En garde!" he yelled. He lunged at her; Martel came to a sudden stop and blocked her brother's attack. She countered with a downward slash, but her brother blocked it. Mithos responded by swinging his stick in a horizontal arc. And so the duel continued until the moon just barely hung over them and the light had begun to clear the night sky. They sat, exhausted and laughing. Then picked up their sticks and moved off into bed.

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The village was in an uproar that day as the village chief stormed through the streets, an angry mob at his heels. He had that famous look in his eye, the 'someone has violated the sacred laws of Heimdall and needs to be punished' look. The crowed grew larger behind him, those who were just joining up asked what was going on and sure enough, someone had broken the sacred laws of Heimdall. When they asked whom, the other whispered it in their ear, even though surely everyone knew by now, and the person who had asked would look upon the mobster in shock. Could that really be true? Could someone live for so long among them and they never knew? To a scholar, maybe at a different point and time, it could have proven a very interesting find.

But as of right now, the news was shocking. It made the ancient elven blood boil; so the news was much like a fever, in the view that everyone was hot with anger. The fever rose to a pitch as they finally came to the house, but what they hadn't expected to see was a young elf standing between them and the perpetrators.

"Step aside Jent," said the village chief.

Jent did not move, he stood his ground firmly, arms raised as if he were hanging on a cross, "I'm not moving from this spot!"

The village chief took a step forward, so that his foot was on the first step of the porch, Jent still did not move.

"Jent, you should know the rules of this village far better than anyone!" yelled the chief, "Now stand aside!"

Jent replied with nothing but a cold stare, the chief's face turned red, "Listen to me, I won't have my own son disgracing us! You know as well as I do the code of our village! You know that Half-elves are not allowed here!"

"So what if they're half-elves!" Jent yelled back, "this is Mithos and Martel we're talking about! What's the difference between us anyway!"

"There's a lot of difference between us!" retorted the chief, "but I don't have time to argue with you! Stand aside now Jent! Or so help me I'll-"

"You'll what? Throw me in the closet again? I'm not a little kid anymore dad! I won't let you hurt my friends!"

"Those _things _are not, and can never be, your friends!"

"Shows what you know! They're everyone's friends!" Jent pointed to one of the elves in the mob, "Sear! When you're son feel into the well, who was it that had himself lowered into it so that he could save him!"

The elf did not answer, but picked up his son and set him on his shoulders. Jent pointed to another elf, "And you Gie! When you feel down while you were carrying that heavy load! Who was it that healed your broken arm!"

The elf also said nothing, Jent pointed to another, "And you Kent! When you had that test you didn't study for and you were going to fail, who was it that helped you ace it even though he was only in 6th grade?"

"Enough! Jent, though Mithos and Martel have made slight contributions to our village, they are still Halve-elves!"

"And someone would have helped my son eventually!" called Sear.

"Yeah!" called Gie, "And I could have just gotten the village chief to heal my arm!"

"And I could've aced that test if I really tried!" pitched in Kent.

The whole crowd was mumbling, looking for excuses, for loopholes to the contract of friendship.

"I can't believe you people!" yelled Jent, "They helped you and your not going to help them? WHAT KIND OF FRIENDS ARE YOU!"

"If they were our friends," yelled an elf, "then they would have respected our rules and left!" at that all the other elves mumbled loudly in agreement.

Jent scoffed and slapped his hand against his forehead, "I give up on you guys…"

"Enough of this!" called the chief over the cal amour, "Jent, if you don't get away from that door _this instant _I will personally have you banished from the village!"

Jent, finally weary of argument, said, "Fine, I'll move. Do what you will, but you'll all pay for it someday, mark my words."

He moved away from the door, the chief and the entire crowed went inside, and Jent wondered how they would all fit. They searched every corner of the house, it wasn't a very big house to begin with, and found no trace of Martel or Mithos.

"They're gone!" said an elf.

The village chief said nothing and went outside, and looked at the grinning face of his son. "Well…whatever the result of this, they are still gone," he turned to address the crowd, "and I hereby ban them form this village of the rest of their natural life! Further more, no one is to ever speak of Mithos or Martel in this village again!" He said these last words with a bit of spite in his voice, aimed directly at the heart of his son.

The crowed dispersed soon after that, and continued about their daily lives. Jent looked out the window of his house later that afternoon, wondering if his best friends would be all right in the world beyond the gates of Heimdall…


	3. Chapter 2

**:Chapter 2:**

Martel was trying desperately to hold back the despair and the anger as she and her brother trekked through the Ymir forest.

He had lost the pendant…

The keepsake and dying wish of their grandmother, they were to keep hidden and live in the village of the elves for the rest of their lives. The magical pendant, soaked in Elves blood, to mask the scent of human blood. Their grandmother had killed a fellow elf for them, ignoring the code, ignoring her own safety, for them.

And he lost it…

The only thing keeping them from getting kicked out of the village, the only thing that stood between them and a good life in peace.

And he lost it…

He _lost it_!

She was so angry right now…she thought things she shouldn't have, wished for things she shouldn't have. She knew she shouldn't think such things, but it was hard not to. Wouldn't you hate your brother if he ruined you're entire life? Literally?

She looked back at him, suddenly worried that her thoughts of anger may have come true. He was straggling behind her, dragging his leather bound bag, his face turned down and his expression sullen. Her eyes softened when she saw him, and she suddenly realized that she wasn't the only one who had lost a home…She suddenly wanted to kick herself for thinking such terrible things! How selfish was that! Mithos had lost just as much as she did, and it wasn't like he did it on purpose.

She looked back at him, "You okay?" she asked.

He didn't answer.

"Mithos?"

He still didn't answer.

"Mithos…I want you to know that…I'm not angry with you…" It was a lie of course, she was still angry, even after her little revelation.

"You…aren't?" Mithos asked from behind.

"No…I know it was an accident, it wasn't you fault. I was also at fault, in a way-"

"No it's not!" Mithos suddenly cried, "It was all my fault sis! None of it was-"

"Mithos, please," she interrupted, "I am at just as much fault as you are. I should have checked and noticed that you had misplaced it, that was my mistake."

"But-"

"I'll not hear another word about it," she said. Martel turned to face him, and gave her brother a smile of sisterly understanding, "Let's just concentrate about getting out of this forest. Okay?"

"…Yeah, okay," Replied her brother.

'_Good,' _she thought, _'we must share the burden. Guilt is too much for him right_ _now, and I need him to be ready to face whatever comes our way._' She felt a pang of sadness_, 'we must share everything now, all we've got now is each other…'_

"Let's rest here," Martel suggested.

"Okay," said Mithos.

They propped themselves up against a tree, the leaves rattled as the cool breeze flew by. They both took a deep breath as the breeze passed, it was oddly refreshing. The sky was a bright orange now, it signaled the end of noonday and the beginning of night.

"It'll be much easier traveling at night," said Mithos, "the monsters don't come out after dark."

"Why?" asked Martel

Mithos shrugged, "I don't know…but it might have something to do with Luna."

"Luna? You mean the moon spirit?"

"Yep, I asked the elder about it, and he said monsters are afraid of the moon. Don't ask why."

The elder…

Even the slightest thought about him made Mithos angry. Him and his stupid rules, he ruined their lives with his stupid rules! The one place they could call home, and now this…

He clenched his hands into a fist, it was all his fault! Why couldn't he be more like Martel? Why'd he have to lose the pendant? Why? Why him!

He looked down, trying to prevent the tears from coming. He couldn't cry, not now of all times. He had to be strong, for his sister. He couldn't let her see him like this. He opened his eyes, and right next to the toes of his shoes, was a fairly large rock. He picked it up; it fit snuggly in his palm. The surface was smooth, and he could easily wrap his fingers around it. He stared at it for a few seconds, channeling all of his anger and sadness into it. Then he threw it with all his might into a nearby bush, it flew into the bush and impacted with a loud thud.

Mithos looked at the bush, a look of strangeness and confusion on his face.

The bush was rustling and moving in a foreboding way. Mithos came a little closer; he strained to see what was going on. Suddenly, the head of a boar popped out, a bump the size of Mithos's fist adorned its head. Anger burned clearly in it's eyes.

Mithos gulped and took a step back, his mind contemplating what spell to use. Martel saw what was happening and stood nervously.

"Mithos…"

"I-I-It was an accident!" stammered her brother.

The boar took a step closer, jets of steam shot from its snout.

"…Mithos…" his sister said again, while taking a step back.

"I'll take care of it," said Mithos, he charged a small amount of mana and discharged it into the air, crying out "wind blade!"

Blades of air formed and struck the boar, it yelped in pain and hopped back.

Mithos gave a confident smile, "Told you I'd get rid of him."

"Hate to spoil your moment, but he's still here and he doesn't look too happy," said his sister as she pointed at the boar; it's eyes now red with rage.

Mithos turned back to the creature, undaunted. _'I'll give him a reason to leave_,' he thought, '_a couple fireballs ought to do it._'

He raised his hand to the beast, ready to strike the final blow. Suddenly the boar began squealing and honking, jumping up and down, pounding it's hooves into the dirt. Mithos stood in confusion, lowering his hand a few inches. What could be causing this creature pain? Did he somehow cast a spell without his own knowledge?

Suddenly the boar ceased its hollow rampage. It turned back to Mithos and Martel. Mithos held his hand back up, ready cast the spell. Suddenly another boar came through the bushes, and another, and another. Now there was a whole heard of them, all red eyed and very angry.

"M-Mithos…" said Martel with uncertainty.

"I-I'm working on it…" he replied with uncertainty

The boar with the bump squealed in a manner that meant 'charge!' and began to run straight to the pair, the other members of the herd followed suite.

"Run!" Mithos yelled, and turned around and broke into a sprint. His sister had done likewise.

They ran through the forest, the footsteps of the boar herd thundered behind them. They were getting closer, and closer as the chase ran on. They grunted in excitement.

"So, is-this-what-you call-taking care of it!" she yelled at her brother in between breaths, as they ran side by side.

Mithos didn't answer, partly because he had none, and partly because he was afraid that talking might slow him down.

They came fast to an old wooden bridge, the planks clattered under their feet. Mithos was hoping the bridge wouldn't be able to support the weight of the boars and they would fall into the lake. But the boars came to a sudden halt just as the pair had crossed. But the two kept running, hearing the boar's squeals and grunts fading away behind them. Though they were only completely satisfied when they could no longer hear them.

They finally came to rest near an old tree, the grandmother of the forest. Mithos plopped right down and leaned his back against the tree's strong trunk. Martel was panting and leaning over, a hand placed onto the trunk of the tree to keep from collapsing.

"Whew…glad that's over," said Mithos.

"It wouldn't have even started if you hadn't thrown that rock," said Martel.

He sighed; he was too tired to argue. Martel gave into fatigue and took a seat next to her brother. She could feel the beads of sweat dripping from her forehead, the moisture making her clothes stick to her skin. She desperately wished for some water.

Mithos sighed next to her, his eyes closed, as if he could hear something. Martel watched him, turning her head ever so slightly to see. But soon lost interest, and turned away. But her brother could hear something, a sweet, silky voice. It sounded far away at first, and he had to strain to hear it. But now it was getting louder, and becoming clearer. By the sound, Mithos judged it to be the voice of a little girl. And she was calling him, beckoning him. But who? And why?

The voice was persistent now; to Mithos whatever it was saying was nothing more than incessant babble. And they grew louder and louder, until they sounded like someone was shouting in his ears. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He got up, and turned to his sister, who was sound asleep. Good, then he didn't have to explain himself. He began to walk, and after he took his first steps and was well on his way to a stroll he realized he hadn't thought about where he was walking too. He just walked, like his feet acted on their own. He imagined that was the work of the voice as well.

As he walked through the forest he noted how tranquil it seemed from the other parts. The greenery seemed greener, the soil seemed earthier, even the rocks looked content. The shrubs were teeming with white flowers that, at first glance, looked like Lilies but were something else. He instinctively wanted to get a closer look, but the voice beckoned him on and his feet obeyed. He was deep in this area of the forest now, blue-winged butterflies suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere. The trees seemed much taller, and some even bore fruit. He picked some of the ones that had fallen and put them in his leather bag before the voice called him again.

But this time he saw who it was that called him.

He was right to say it was a little girl, she couldn't have been more than six or seven years old by the looks of her. Her hair was a night-sky black, braided up in two ponytails. Her eyes were of the same shade as her hair, and they seemed to sparkle with the life of a star. She wore a milk white nightgown, and her pale skin seemed to shine in the light.

She beckoned to him again in the strange language she spoke, and waved her hand in a signal to follow. She was a good distance away from him though, and he had to run to catch up. More flowers bloomed with each of his steps, or so it seemed. The grass under his feet was becoming greener and softer, he could feel it thorough his shoes. Even the air he breathed seemed sweeter.

Suddenly, as he ran, he came to the notion that the girl as disappeared again. Did she have that much of a head start? Perhaps she was running as well, but he could still hear her voice so she hadn't completely abandoned him. He kept running until he came to a clearing in the trees.

The voice stopped.

Mithos too, stopped dead in his tracks. Not because of the great-grandmother tree in front of him that seemingly grew to the heavens. Not because of the stream running through the clearing who's color was that of golden honey, or even the single horned horse that leapt away as soon as he ran into the clearing. He stopped because of the heavily armored man sitting on a rock right in front of the great-grandmother tree, his hands resting on the hilt of his sword in a cane like fashion. He looked up at Mithos, and underneath that armor were eyes that took the glow and color of burning red coal. He rose, and charged at the boy in a frenzied rage.


End file.
